


Shanty

by Konstantinsen



Category: RWBY
Genre: Creepy, Gen, Horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-08-08 21:29:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16437143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Konstantinsen/pseuds/Konstantinsen
Summary: Lost in the woods, Blake and Yang spend the night in an empty run-down shack. Turns out, they're not the only ones around.





	Shanty

**NOTE: This is an old one-shot that I started writing back in March. Decided to see how far I could go with it.**

* * *

****This was not that bad of a training mission. Sure, they had gotten very definitively lost and subsequently separated during their forays into this thicker forested area south of Vale but at least they had managed to find some shelter. Hunting Grimm demanded sacrificing certain luxuries. No signal reception, rendering their scrolls near useless. Poor visibility as well thanks to this damn mist that almost never left the whole area.

So when Yang popped the very _brilliant_ idea of lodging at this abandoned old shack in the middle of these woods, Blake could find no better argument. They were both tired, hungry, and aching from aimless trekking. Despite worrying about Ruby and Weiss, they were sure the other half of their team were holding out better than they have.

“This has seen better days,” the faunus remarked. Water damage from the ceiling. Aged questionable stains on the walls. It was like your typical hideaway for anyone wanting to get his fix on some high-grade Mistralian nose powder.

“On the bright side, no bugs,” the blonde remarked cheekily.

Blake shot her a glare, speaking through her hands. “It smells.”

“Ah, it ain't that bad.”

* * *

If it had not been for Weiss's persistence in their preparation for this assignment, they could have easily burned through their supplies before sundown. Packing a week's worth of food for a mission that would have stretched to five days at most paid off with Yang's heavy appetite.

Eating inside a shelter that reeked of mildew did not sit well with their stomachs. So as soon as they finished dinner, they cleared up the least cluttered room and laid down their bedrolls.

Yang growled as she held up her scroll over her face. “No signal. Seriously. What the hell? Are we that deep in the woods that the CCT can't pick us up?”

“Can't send a message, huh,” Blake mumbled, poring through one of the few books she brought along with her.

“Just have to make sure Ruby and Weiss are okay.”

“I'm sure they are.”

“Yeah, well. Whatever. Goodnight, kitty-cat.”

Blake snapped her book shut and pressed it under her headrest beside Gambol Shroud. “Yeah. You too, Yang.”

* * *

Blake woke up to the noise of something walking around in the dark. Having been raised in the White Fang trained her to be more sensitive to her gut feeling which was basically screaming at her so much so that she could not ignore it.

The faunus edged out of her sleeping bag, careful not to disturb her snoring partner, and paced to the windows, peering through the thick darkness. Not much light tonight with the mist still in place which was in itself weird. It was damn hard to see but she swore she could hear footfalls crunching over the underbrush and irregular scratches against tree bark.

She fished out Gambol Shroud, slipped on her boots, and circled the property, her senses privy to anything that seemed out of place. So far, no Grimm. Nothing more sentient, either.

Still, that overwhelming sense of dread lingered in the back of her mind. That tingly feeling of something breathing down her bare neck...

Blake took a deep breath and checked her scroll; twenty minutes since she woke up. It was one in the morning. Better had back in. Nothing out here. For now. Her body was still tired and she could feel her eyelids weighing down. Besides, it was freezing out here. Allowing a yawn, she shuffled back inside, finding her sleeping bag beside Yang and squeezing back in.

Lying on her side, the faunus had a good view of one of the empty rooms where a moldy old mattress lay, covered in a dirty blanket, the outline of someone's feet visible on the edge.

Wait.

Blake bolted upright, her heart pounding out of her chest. She blinked and rubbed her eyes. Yes. Those were someone's feet. Someone's legs. Someone's form under that blanket in that room. Lying down, unmoving. Not even breathing.

“What the hell,” she croaked.

This shack was empty when they walked in this morning. The reason they went for their sleeping bags was because that mattress was moldy. How on Remnant could anyone—whoever or whatever that was—sneak into the house while she was out? Barring Yang being a solid sleeper, was she that tired that she didn't notice? Or was it that good?

Blake rustled her partner awake and pointed at the anomaly which was enough to shock the blonde brawler wide awake. Ember Celica and Gambol Shroud at the ready, the pair eased towards the empty room. At the third count, they pounced, Yang kicking the blanket off to reveal...a maggot-ridden corpse.

Both girls screamed and heaved. Okay, that definitely was _not_ there this morning! That wasn't even there thirty minutes ago! How in the world...?

“Crud! That smells!” Yang groused.

“How did...” stammered the faunus.

The blonde shook her head. “Let's just...get rid of it. Ugh, I hate maggots.”

The body had sunk deep into the foam, forcing them to grip the moldy edges with their bare hands. They carried the mattress outside and laid it out under a tree. This body that had clearly been festering for a while left them stumped. This was something new to them as Huntresses. Should they bury it? How should they bury it? Give its last rites or something? Maybe clean it out before leaving it in the open? Is it right to leave it out here in the open? Sky burials were still a thing, right?

Blake and Yang shrugged nervously at each other and carefully, and as respectfully as they could, piled a cairn of dried leaves, twigs, and thick underbrush along with a handful of rocks over the corpse. Maybe that would help them sleep tonight. Or not.

The faunus was sure there was something out there in the woods as they trudged back inside. And it did not feel like Grimm.

* * *

Blake and Yang were at a loss for words. They had spent most of daylight meandering through the forest, scouring the woods, trudging through the underbrush. No Grimm.

And the worst part? They had somehow looped back to the damn house.

“H-how...but...we were...” the blonde mumbled incoherently.

“Those trees did not look familiar. Why are we back here?” muttered the disbelieving faunus.

Yang let out her frustrations on a felled oak, sending burnt splinters everywhere. “Damn it!”

Blake planted her hand on her shoulder. “Hey, easy there. We'll get out of here. But we should get some rest.” She gestured at the orange sky. “It'll be dark in less than an hour.”

“I know.”

They bunked back in the same spot on the floor. This time, they inspected every corner, checked every nook and cranny. Nothing suspicious. The open, glassless windows were the only problem and with the lack of nails, boarding them up was out of the question. Might as well tough it out and be light sleepers.

Their sleeping bags were closer now, though. Out of practical safety.

“I don't like this, Blake.”

“Neither do I.”

“Just scream if something happens.”

“Oh, you'll definitely hear it,” the faunus replied warily before drifting to dreamless sleep.

* * *

Blake woke up to the same creaking. Except, it was louder. Closer to the shack. She sat upright, dug her hand under her headrest where she kept Gambol Shroud, and peered outside. Same damn mist with the reduced visibility. She let out a hiss as she prowled around, passing the room to find...

“Oh no...”

She was thoroughly freaked out now. She even nearly stumbled onto her rear as she frantically woke Yang. The blonde looked vexed but fell into the same terrified shock when she pointed to the mattress that was back in that damn room across from them.

“What the...”

The two ladies rushed outside to see... Yes. The cairn was there. Undisturbed. Yet, somehow, that moldy old mattress was back where it was in the house sans the blanket they used to wrap the corpse in.

“Blake?”

“Yang?”

“Do you want to go back to sleep?”

“I...don't want to.”

“Okay. Me neither.”

* * *

Try as they might to stay awake, their fatigue was too much and they ended up both falling asleep sitting up against the wall with their heads on top of each other.

Only when Blake felt something ruffle the back of her feline ears did she bolt awake and pick out the shadow of something moving against the floor. She shook Yang awake and the two hastily donned their weapons as they turned the corner into the living space to see...

“Uh, Blakey?” Yang mumbled shakily. “You...you're not playing with me...a-are you?”

Blake found her throat too dry to utter anything.

Because there, squeezed into the doorframe of the entrance to their rundown shack was that disgusting mattress. And standing in front of it was her own silhouette. On any given day, people who knew her would easily mistake it for an errant clone, a by-product of her Semblance. However, she had never once, for the past two days, conjured a copy of herself. That she knew for sure.

Also, her own clones _did not move on their own_.

“B-b-blakey?”

“Y-yang?”

Blake's doppelgänger slowly turned around. Unkempt hair ran down her face until pale lithe arms pulled them apart to reveal hollow pits where eyes should be.

“Hey, kitty-cat,” it spoke in _Yang's_ voice.

The faunus recoiled, the presence of her partner suddenly gone, and landed on her rump. She glanced around, seeing only one bedroll. Yang's was gone. So were her boots and her field bag. Blake felt the cold of the floor race up the bare skin of her feet and she staggered up with Gambol Shroud shaking in her grip.

“Where you goin'?” the thing teased.

This had to be some kind of Grimm. It had to be! Black, shadowy, a bastardization of the light. It had to be messing with her head. “G-get back!”

“Why? So you can run away from me again?” it retorted in Adam's voice.

Blake let out a desperate feral cry as she left behind a shadow clone to cover her escape through the window. Landing ungracefully, she sprinted through the woods, through this undying mist, and passing by repetitions of herself.

“No, no, _no_!” she shrieked, passing by more of her own twins.

She swiped wildly with the blade of her weapon. With her eyes screwed shut, it was hard to tell whether she contacted at all. She did, however, barrel through the bushes and rolled roughly down a dried-up creek. She staggered up to her feet between two embankments that were now flanked by her own shadow clones.

“What the...?”

The manifestations of her own Semblance surrounded her, emerging out of the woodwork with their ragged hair, ripped clothes, and empty eye sockets. She could see deep cuts, gashes, injuries that could have proven fatal. These were her expendable clones and they were hobbling.

Blake lifted a foot in front of the other only to wince in the pain lancing up her sole. She stepped on some twigs and somehow they were sharp enough to crack through her Aura and pierce her skin. Now she was limping. And her doppelgängers inched closer.

“N-no, get back!” She emptied a whole clip into some of them, dissipating them only for replacements to appear not far away. “Stay away!”

Then she felt warm breath against the nape of her neck. And her voice hiss hatefully back, “This is for the girls.”

Blake screamed.

* * *

Yang jolted awake on top of her bedroll with no Blake in sight.

“Blake? Blake!”

Nothing. The blonde brawler cocked Ember Celica and stepped out into the living room, expecting to see a corrupted version of her partner's shadow clone standing in the doorway. In her dream, the damn thing spoke to them with her own voice. And the next thing she remembered was dragging someone by the arm through the woods. An arm that connected to a head with purple cat ears.

“Blake!” Yang screeched, bolting outside and running around. “Blake!”

There was something in the woods. She could feel it. It had to be Grimm. They preyed on fear and she could not afford to be giving them their nectar right now. Screaming her partner's name, she picked a random direction and ran, ignoring the scratches on her bare feet and the cold whipping through her bare skin. Screw her coat and shawl, she needed to be on the move now!

“Blake! Where are you!?”

Yang kept running and she swore she heard something whistle behind her. Snapping her head back, left, right. Missed a tree. Over a log! Nearly fell into that brook there.

“Blakey! Seriously, where are you!?”

Then she heard it. Blake's voice cracking over the woods.

Heart pounding in her chest, she raced through the mist until she pushed through the bushes to stumble into a dried up pond. A figure was curled up by a large conifer. Yang felt her toes press into something wet and she looked down. Blood.

It led all the way to...whoever that was.

Gulping and readying her fists, she cautiously approached until she heard sobbing. She dropped her guard and rushed over. “Blake! Oh my gosh, Blake, are you okay?”

Almost immediately, she felt a blade press against her throat. And Blake's panic-ridden irises glowing back at her with intense fear.

“It's me, Yang! Take it easy!”

“... Yang?”

“Yeah, kitty-cat. It's me.” Yang stopped herself, a shiver creeping up her spine. “As long as you're you... I-it's you. Right? Blake?”

The faunus stood and limped pathetically. “We need to find Ruby and Weiss...”

“Yeah...I heard you.” Yang snaked her arm around her shoulder to help her walk the way. “Something cracked through your Aura, huh.”

“Something...is messing with us.”

“Yeah, I think I've had enough, too. Come on. We need to get our stuff at that house.”

“Did you get your scroll?”

“I, uh...shit.”

Both girls froze. Then they hobbled as fast as they could back the way the thought they came. The mist, somehow, was thick enough to inhibit the light from the shattered moon, keeping them mostly in the dark.

“Which way?”

“I don't know!”

Blake and Yang pressed aimlessly onward, hoping for the best, all the while ignoring the horrifying presence that continued to breathe down their necks.

* * *

**ORIGINALLY DRAFTED: March 30, 2018**

**LAST EDITED: September 12, 2018**

**INITIALLY UPLOADED: September 12, 2018 [FFN]**

**NOTE: Back in March, I had a dream where Blake and Yang are staying at a shack in the middle of the woods but are stalked by a bunch of wierdos a la horror movie style. It really put me on edge that I had to write it down while it was still fresh in my mind. Then I left it on the back-burner and promptly forgot about it until recently when I was combing through my files.**

**I had already written a good chunk of it so I thought I might as well go back to this and keep writing to see how far I can take this. So voila. An attempt at horror. Also, there was no pairing in mind when I jot this down so don't get your hopes up.**

**I'm thinking of making a Mountain Glenn version of this though...**


End file.
